


edges frayed, re-woven

by darkmagicmike



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oh y'all know, faux-mission fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15606942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmagicmike/pseuds/darkmagicmike
Summary: Qui-Gon knocked back his drink.Officially, there was no reason to be at the end of his rope.  The negotiations were proceeding excellently, going smoothly beyond belief. Or, it would have been beyond belief if his mission partner, one Knight Kenobi, hadn't met and apparently saved the life of the other faction’s negotiator a few years prior.Unofficially...He's in love.





	1. do i wanna know

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a one trick pony but if it works, it works.

Qui-Gon knocked back his drink.

Officially, there was no reason to be at the end of his rope. The negotiations were proceeding excellently, going smoothly beyond belief. Or, it would have been beyond belief if his mission partner, one Knight Kenobi, hadn't met and apparently saved the life of the other faction’s negotiator a few years prior.

Unofficially, Qui-Gon had every reason to have hit the limit of what he could bear.

In anticipation of the agricultural treaty between the Rishii and their alien neighbors, every settlement in Raider’s Cove were packed to the brim. The Jedi delegation, negotiating for the Rishii, were promised accomodations in the contract. 

It just so happened that those accommodations were essentially a closet with a bed shoved into it, some bastard child of a single and double bunk. Just large enough to fit two fully grown humans if they weren't Qui-Gon’s size and if they were willing to lay almost on top of each other.

And therein lies the rub, thought Qui-Gon grimly. Gripping the stem of his drink, he subtly leaned against the pillar behind him. Almost a ten-day of sleeping on the edge of the bed, curled into himself and away from Obi-Wan, left Qui-Gon aching. 

Better to ache physically than to tilt the amiable status quo between master and former apprentice. Better to take solace in having a comfortable working relationship than to risk it all. Not when Qui-Gon was the one to almost ruin any camaraderie between them. 

He stood there, not precisely lurking on the edge of the room but something similar, watching his former padawan turn around the room in the arms of the humanoid faction’s negotiator, a handsome Galand named Eke Sol. They were beautiful together -

Obi-Wan was beautiful, always stunning. At some point after his Knighting, in that nebulous time where Qui-Gon was limited to the Healer’s Hall, Obi-Wan made a name for himself as one of the steadiest and most competent young Knights.

One of the Rishii chieftans, Odenmo, made her way across the room, saving Qui-Gon from his woolgathering. “Master Jinn, the negotiations have proceeded wonderfully - far beyond what we expected. Truly, your order will always have a friend in the newly united Rishii.”

Qui-Gon turned to face Odenmo, smiling warmly. The Rishii chief was one of the few uncomplicated delights found during this mission. Had she been younger, the Order would have opened their doors and hearts to her with her pure and deep connection to the Living Force. As it were, Qui-Gon, ever the maverick, had taken some time to teach meditation to the chief. 

“I think,” he said wryly, gesturing to where he knew Obi-Wan turned on the dance floor, his former apprentice leaning forward to listen to what Eke Sol whispered in his ear, “much of our success can be laid at the feet of my mission partner. If not all of it.”

Qui-Gon missed the considering look Obi-Wan leveled towards him but his conversation partner didn't.

Odenmo trilled softly, thoughtful. “Perhaps. Knight Kenobi has been spectacular. However…”

“However?” asked Qui-Gon, curious. He had, mistakenly, missed a small portion of the negotiations - oversleeping for hours. Obi-Wan’s report written on that meeting had been brief, professional, succinct. 

“Your presence steadies him,” said Odenmo, side-eyeing the large human next to her. The Jedi thought they were subtle but Odenmo had raised enough chicks and watched almost all of her tribe come of age - she knew pining when she saw it. “Without you there, he’s still an exemplary negotiator. But with you at his side - Knight Kenobi!” Odenmo stopped her train of thought to greet the man steadily heading towards them.

The sight of his former padawan took Qui-Gon’s breath away. Neither of them were dressed particularly formally for this celebration; not that it mattered one bit. No, it was because Obi-Wan was beaming at them, at him, like that. Flushed from dancing and high spirits, he practically glowed. 

That was what made Qui-Gon ache, stole his breath away, and made him feel every bit of his age - a revered master but one who was worn down and no longer a heartbreaker. 

But still he smiled back, just as warmly at his apprentice, and shunted aside any inappropriate feelings of jealousy directed towards Eke Sol. “Taking a break from dancing, Obi-Wan?”

“Actually, no,” said Obi-Wan. He turned and bowed to Odenmo briefly. “Do you mind if I steal your conversation partner?”

“Take him away,” said Odenmo, clearly laughing in the Force. 

Obi-Wan turned back to Qui-Gon, softly smiling now. He held out a hand. “Will you do me the honor?”

“Surely, you’d rather dance with someone other than your decrepit old master.” Qui-Gon put in a token protest but he was already reaching out, had been doing so from the moment Obi-Wan held out his hand. 

Qui-Gon couldn’t refuse himself this, couldn’t refuse Obi-Wan in this. 

“Haven’t I always wanted you? From the beginning,” said Obi-Wan, clasping the master’s hand and turning to lead the two of them out onto the floor. 

Qui-Gon hurried to set his glass down, letting himself fall into Obi-Wan’s gravity. “You were headstrong but you always knew what you wanted. It made you a delight to teach.”


	2. if this feeling goes both ways

As they settled onto the floor, the tone of the music shifted and slowed into a simple melody. Obi-Wan drew Qui-Gon close, directing one of his former master’s hands to rest on his hip. The other automatically slid into Obi-Wan’s hand.

 

Obi-Wan hid a satisfied smile. No matter how much Qui-Gon overthought certain things, his instincts betrayed him. 

 

Not at first, no. 

 

But there was the morning after a day of hard negotiation, the only day where Obi-Wan had thought that the situation was tilting sideways for a moment. That morning, hours before dawn, Obi-Wan had awoke in the arms of a half asleep Qui-Gon Jinn.

 

His former master’s decision to sleep almost on the edge of the bunk had been an oddity but it was easy to dismiss. Better to even be near the man he loved, his old master, than to have Qui-Gon request a different partner, or just shut Obi-Wan out entirely.

 

Except - there he was, awake and in his master’s arms as the man fell into his first deep sleep in days and as his shields slipped with that.

 

Obi-Wan knew, even before he had met Qui-Gon Jinn, that the man who was to become his master carried with him a depth of feeling that was awe-inspiring. Over the years of his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan was allowed to glimpse just how deep that well ran. 

 

In the latter years of his apprenticeship but before Naboo, it was nigh impossible to keep all barriers up between the two of them as Obi-Wan grew into adulthood and the Council began assigning them more and more demanding missions.  

 

Then, Obi-Wan understood why his master refused a Council position. When you survived something you didn't know you could survive, passed what you thought possible, they asked you to do it again. Regretfully, at times, but the Council asked because  _ there was no other choice.  _ His master, with his soft heart, wouldn't be able to live with himself - making decisions like that. 

 

During one of those missions, they were forced by a storm to taking shelter in a cave.  Obi-Wan had taken a cut to his side from a glancing knife, nothing life-threatening (yet) but enough to wear the padawan thin, enough to have him reaching out for comfort like a sick child. 

 

Neither of them slept that night as the master cradled the apprentice and told him stories of the Jedi Order of old, of Master Dooku, of Tahl. Memories of the beginning of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship, half-remembered by the padawan but forever imprinted in Qui-Gon’s memory. 

 

There was even one memory of Xanatos, from before he turned:

 

_ “I loved Xanatos, with everything in me. He was so bright in the Force and so sure of himself - of the trajectory of his life. I thought we were a Force-ordained pair, that he would become my legacy.” _

 

_ A short pause. Qui-Gon gently combed through Obi-Wan’s hair.  _

 

_ “He would have been. I was at least right about that. But you burst into my life, rolling over all my plans.  I was going to finish out a few more years and just… disappear into the winds, pick up some far out post. I can't, couldn't even then on Bandomeer, let you go.” _

 

_ “You will be my legacy, and I could not be more proud of you.” _

 

Obi-Wan knew then that Qui-Gon loved him dearly. That the only way his master loved was with his whole heart.

 

And it was then that he fell in love with his then-master.

 

He never fell out.

 

When Qui-Gon’s shields dropped, the depth of love and yearning and resigned acceptance the Jedi master carried everywhere almost blew Obi-Wan away.

 

The mountain of sorrow his former master carried with him, however, left Obi-Wan with an almost physical ache in his chest.  He reached out, tracing one of the lines etched into Qui-Gon’s face.

 

It was new to him, a story that Obi-Wan was not a part of.  But maybe, just maybe, he’d hear the tale from the man himself.

 

Qui-Gon shifted in his sleep, drawing Obi-Wan closer.  “You think too much, love. Just be with me,” murmured Qui-Gon.  He pressed a kiss against the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth, sweet and lingering. 

 

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile, something inside him relaxing for the first time in years. He laid a palm on Qui-Gon’s cheek and eased his former master back to sleep with a gentle Force suggestion. 

 

Obi-Wan pressed a kiss against Qui-Gon’s forehead and prepared to face the day’s negotiation alone. 

 

Somehow, suddenly, it wasn't such a hardship to endure. 

 

Everything had been leading up to this moment. The two of them were slowly moving across the floor in a swaying dance, Obi-Wan hiding a smile.

 

He met Qui-Gon’s gaze steadily. His former master was never going to be the one to speak up first, Obi-Wan understood that now. “I’ve missed you, master of mine.”

 

“And I you.” This close, Obi-Wan felt the deeper timbre of Qui-Gon’s voice rumble between them. Qui-Gon’s hand tightened against his hip before he continued, “some of your exploits leave me to fret in your absence, however.”

 

“I act as the Force wills,” said Obi-Wan. For a moment, he was every inch the rising star in the Order’s ranks. Then, he was grinning up at Qui-Gon, “everything I do, I learned from you, Qui-Gon.”

 

“And that’s what worries me,” said Qui-Gon, frowning. A beat of silence as the two turned on the floor, moving slowly on the outer edge. “I wouldn't know what to do in a universe without you. I find myself… unmoored in your absence but I would be entirely lost if you were gone, Obi-Wan.”

 

“You don't have to be unmoored.”

 

A beat.  Neither of them moved.

 

“If you asked me to, I would stay,” said Obi-Wan.  He cupped Qui-Gon’s face, thumb briefly brushing against the man’s cheek. Qui-Gon’s eyes slid closed for a moment, looking every inch as tired as his former padawan knew he was. “I’m yours. I always have been. All you have to do is ask.”

 

“Obi-Wan,” said Qui-Gon, devastated. He floundered, unable to find any words at the moment. The axis of his inner world spun dangerously, out of line with everything he thought he had known. 

 

“You don’t need to choose right now,” said Obi-Wan, taking a step back. “Just, know that the offer will always be open to you.”

 

“I need to meditate,” said Qui-Gon.  He turned without waiting for a response, speeding towards the closest exit.

 

Obi-Wan watched him go with a soft, sad smile. The decision was out of his hands now. No matter the outcome, the risk was worth it.

 

For the chance of a lifetime, to let himself be in love with the man who knew him inside and out.

 

It was worth  _ everything. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter y'all
> 
> stay sexy


End file.
